


Corrupted by Vengeance

by AlexJ69



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Crisis Core, Final Fantasy VII - Freeform, M/M, oh shit it's a long final fantasy fic get in the car!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-09-20
Updated: 2010-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-12 01:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexJ69/pseuds/AlexJ69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being defeated twice, Sephiroth finally understands what he really wants, however the only way to get it is to go back to a time before he made his mistakes. Time travel fic. Rated for yaoi, graphic sex and violence later. Sephiroth/Genesis</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Corrupted

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Nope, don't own  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Pairing: Sephiroth/Genesis  
> Warnings: Nothing this chapter

Shimmering, resplendent in glory, the sparkling green stream of life gently permeated all facets of the planet. The source of creation, shrouded in mystery, skirting the fringes of fantasy, the Lifestream was the only place where one could ever obtain the abstract state known a Peace. The beings who inhabited the breathing blue-green rock proclaimed desire of the hypothetical idea, but their dreams betrayed them. They sought change, living one moment to the next, hoping each will be different, wanting new memories, clinging to visions of a future that will be altered from the spot they are rooted in.

Change is violent, the destruction of the past to make way for the present, and cutting a subtle but bloody path into an unknowable tomorrow. The theory of tranquility, harmony, and peace, was just that: a theory. No living soul really wanted to exist in those states of being, only attracted to the notions because there was a void that needed filled. People looked for action and adventure, fraught with danger and peril. They wanted to discover new wonders that would lead them to their next quest. Even those who never actively peruse fate listen with rapt fascination to the stories about those who had.

The swirling green energy of the Lifestream glittered around the silver-haired being as he pondered these philosophies. What would it mean if the planet ever achieved peace? It would mean stagnation. No wars, no disagreements, no differences of opinions, no growth...no individuality. The thought was unsettling.

Obtaining perfect peace meant sacrificing ones self to the meaning, and in the process one loses their identity. He listened carefully to the melody of those who had surrendered to tranquility, those who were no longer individuals but The Collective. He knew what they knew, and how they only existed in a state of unknowingness, allowed intellect only when the spirit of the planet considered it a worthy endeavor. Perfect peace meant perfect ignorance and Sephiroth rejected the idea utterly.

After Sephiroth's initial renunciation of The Collective, he had been forever barred to become one with them, not that he was upset. He did not want to be part of that static group who's existence depended upon the memories of those still alive. His very sense of self preservation refused to allow him to become some pathetic spirit guide who only became aware when a mortal clung to the past memories of him; he was too powerful for that.

So he wandered.

He traversed the Lifestream, at first only seeking to grow in power and knowledge. At certain intervals, when he had grown bored with what he had learned, he breached the barrier between life and death. The two times he had crossed, he had been unclear as to what he really wanted. In a times past, when he was bitter and unsure, he believed he wanted to sail through the cosmos and find or build Utopia. Both times he attempted his plan he had been defeated and sent back to wandering.

It was only after his second defeat that the realization dawned on him that he hadn't clearly defined his goal. What was it he was actually striving for? The Promised Land? He found the Promised Land, that place of peace that he called The Collective, so it couldn't be that. What was it that made him happy?

When it hit him, the simplicity of it, he could have kicked himself, and would have if he still had a corporeal body. A old friend of his used to tell him he always missed the simple things, he always made things too complex.

As he peered from the Lifestream down on Gaia, he knew what made him happy. Now all that was left to do was claim his godhood and descend upon the mortal realm once again; this time a decisive plan in mind.

Moving quickly, before Gaia's manifested will, Minerva, could react, Sephiroth called the remaining souls of the Geostigma victims to him and used what was left of their essence along with his own power to rip through the time-space continuum.

The portal he created was dark light, oozing and seething malice, reeking of blood, steal and fire, offsetting the vibrant green magic that surrounded it. With his own made destiny coiled around him, the warlord stepped through the portal, headed for a time when he could change everything in his favor. When he arrived, he took the next logical step; he searched out the perfect body that could house his soul: his own.

 **& %$ **

Half sitting, half laying on his bed, Sephiroth had his back resting against his headboard, legs stretched out with one ankle crossed over the other. His tall but slim figure only took up a small portion of the queen-sized bed, the rest of the mattress was occupied by an auburn-haired teen who had somehow positioned himself diagonally with his booted feet too close to Sephiroth's face, and his head laying in the silver-haired boy's lap.

Nobody else on Gaia, including Sephiroth's only other friend Angeal, dared touch the warrior without his express permission, let alone use him as a pillow. But the redhead wasn't just anybody; he was Genesis Rhapsodos and there would be hell to pay if Sephiroth tried to move him. Not in the sense that Genesis could kick his ass, but if the teen pushed his friend away, Genesis would probably sit outside his room all night, singing at the top of his lungs, keeping him awake. Also, Sephiroth had to admit, he enjoyed physical contact with the other.

After an hour of them lounging in silence, Sephiroth reading a book and Genesis doing a crossword puzzle, the silver SOLDIER laid aside his reading material – _The History of Biological Warfare_ – and watched as the other boy entertained himself with his word-search. Genesis was beautiful, Sephiroth observed unnoticed while his friend was occupied. The way his red hair, rust inlaid with copper, framed his face made Sephiroth want to run his finger's through it, just to see if it was as silky as it looked. Features, soft and delicate, high cheek bones and forehead, small nose, slightly arched brows, rounded chin, almost symmetrical to the point of perfection, had Sephiroth's heart beating faster than normal every time he looked at them. Blue eye that could captivate for hours, were brighter than any he'd ever seen. And lips, those pink lips, wet from having just been licked, were the lips men and women alike dreamed of kissing.

Sephiroth knew he shouldn't be thinking of other boys as beautiful or in Genesis' case, achingly desirable. Professor Hojo had once explained sex to him – when he had been caught exploring himself and discovering how enjoyable touching himself was – and that he should find a woman to have sex with. Hojo then went into the details of sex. However, even though embarrassed, and still painfully in need, the suggestion held no appeal for him. He wouldn't lie, some women were very pretty; he could see himself kissing one, maybe even fondling her, but when he tried to imagine himself having sex with a girl, he lost interest completely. Yet, when he looked at other men, he found he liked them better: their strength, the shapes of their bodies, how rigid they carried themselves. He could envision himself naked with another man, holding him, touching him intimately, the both of them reaching completion together.

He never told Hojo of his lusts, a part of him truly feared what the Professor would say or do, and he never acted on his instincts, choosing masturbation instead. Then came Genesis, and whenever the redhead took the liberties of touching him, which was often, always under the auspice of horseplay, Sephiroth felt his resolve slipping. Self-gratification was suddenly not as fulfilling and the more he was around the auburn one, the more powerful the need became. He knew the feeling was mutual, Genesis' eyes would brighten when the two were in close proximity, and Sephiroth could almost caress the subtle heat rolling off Genesis' body.

“Genesis,” his voice cut through the quiet, “does Angeal allow you to lay on him during your downtime?”

“Why would he?” Genesis responded without looking up from his puzzle book.

“I am merely curious as to why you find it acceptable to use me as a head-rest.”

The redhead circled a word, focus still not on Sephiroth, “because I feel special being the only person you let touch you...other than the scientists, of course.”

“...I see. And would you move if I told you I had to relieve myself?”

“Depends,” Genesis' eyes scanned the page, “do you have to go to the bathroom?”

“No...I was only asking.”

The red SOLDIER turned his face toward his friend, crocked smile upturning the corners of his lips, he chuckled, “you are so weird.”

Had anyone else called him weird, Sephiroth would have taken grave offense, since it was Genesis however, Sephiroth smirked. The teen seemed to be the exception to all of Sephiroth's rules. Also this was his way of flirting.

“I find it strange that you call me weird, but it is you who is using the most dangerous person in the world as a pillow.”

Amusement had Genesis' body trembling, laughter becoming a crystalline bell that filled the empty places where silence was lurking. “You are NOT the most dangerous person in the world. I think your mad scientist fills your head with nonsense.”

In a single, fluid motion, without Genesis having a chance to defend himself, Sephiroth had the boy beneath him, lower half between his legs, and Gen's arms pinned above his head.

“Really?” the silver SOLDIER's emerald eyes had darkened, his face now only inches from his captive's. His long hair was cascading around them, threatening to hide them in a curtain of silk.

Genesis' laughter had trailed off, leaving a short gasp in its wake. He shivered and peered up into Sephiroth's face expectantly. Sephiroth could feel, even through his clothes, that Genesis' temperature had sky rocketed and his skin was entirely flushed with anxiety and want. He understood what the redhead was feeling because he felt it as well. His stomach did a somersault, his heart pounding so hard it was ringing in his ears. He wanted to claim, to dominate, those wet, pink lips. The lips that recited poetry, and read aloud. The lips that curled up on only one side.

Sephiroth lowered his mouth until it was touching those lips, but he did not kiss. He wasn't ready for that, he wouldn't be able to stop if he did. He worked his jaw, forcing Genesis' mouth to move with his.

“Don't ever forget who I am, Genesis Rhapsodos,”he loved saying Genesis' name, loved the syllables dancing on his tongue. His voice became low and deadly, “and how dangerous I really am.”

Sephiroth's copper beauty slid his eyes closed, and nodded, his lips now grazing the set above.

Not daring to move, maintaining a constant amount of pressure, fearful of devouring the boy under him, the silver SOLDIER held the not-kiss, allowing the tingle of Genesis' mouth to flood his senses.

A knock on the door separated them instantly, as if they'd never been in such a compromising position in the first place. Sephiroth was in his original position, back against the headboard and Genesis was sitting cross-legged on the bed, word-search in hand.

Mentally cursing the intrusion, and wishing he could will his hardness away, Sephiroth intoned, “It's open.” He hoped his heavy breathing wouldn't be detected. He also hoped his hair wasn't too out of place.

It came as no surprise to see Angeal poke his head around the door, and had Sephiroth not been yearning to continue touching Genesis, he would have been genuinely thrilled to see his friend back from his mission.

Genesis shot Sephiroth a glare that said, ' _are you kidding? the door was unlocked?_ ' before raising from the bed and throwing his arms around Angeal's neck. Angeal returned the embrace of his childhood friend, holding his tight, chin stubble scratchy against the redhead's cheek.

“It's good to see you too Gen,” The dark-haired SOLDIER finally pried Genesis off him, laughter tainting his speech.

“Sorry, Geal, I miss you when you're gone, and you know I worry easily.”

Broad shoulders shook with mirth, “you have no faith in me, Genesis Rhapsodos.” People used both first and last name when they wanted emphasis on their words, as if Rhapsodos was an exclamation point.

“I do too...just not when you could get killed.”

Sephiroth had also moved from the bed when Angeal had entered, but he stayed back, giving the other two room for their reunion. He was feeling a pang of jealously clinch his chest, but the emotion didn't show on his pale, chiseled face. He wondered what it would be like to have Genesis welcome him home from a mission with such enthusiasm. In his mind's eye he saw the red SOLDIER entwining his slender, but defined arms around his neck, and instead of just hugging Sephiroth, Genesis would kiss him, that crooked smile etched on his mouth.

“Welcome back, Angeal,” the silver SOLDIER stepped forward and held out his hand when Genesis moved away.

“Sephiroth,” the third class clasped his superior's hand and shook firmly.

Angeal's formality drew a great deal of respect from Sephiroth, and though he knew he would never be as close to him as Genesis was, he still counted him as a friend and confidant.

“How was your mission?” Sephiroth took the seat at his desk, leaving the other two the bed to sit on. Though he was a rank higher than his friends, his ugly, army-green room was the same size, consisting of his bed, a desk, a small closet, and a tiny bathroom, the only difference: he didn't have to share.

Angeal, so much bigger and more masculine than his counterpart, practically fell back on Sephiroth's bed, making himself comfortable, while Genesis sat at the foot, legs crossed, looking pretty and demure, almost dainty, especially in comparison.

“One word,” the rougher looking boy growled, untying a ribbon from around his wrist, “Malboro.”

There was a wince from Sephiroth but Genesis' eyes grew wide, curiosity shining across his face. “Really? Tell us about it.”

Pity was the emotion Sephiroth would never admit to feeling for the red SODIER, though it stung him sharply, mostly at times like these. Genesis was begging to hear about Angeal's mission, living it vicariously though the brawnier teen. Due to the redhead's small size and stature, the higher-ups hadn't given him his own mission yet, regardless of the fact he passed the SOLDIER entrance exam with ease and his speed and use of materia were superb. So Genesis was left to experience the excitement and glory through tales told by his friends. The silver second ached that for the teen, yet another part of him, the better part, was angry. He wanted the redhead's ability to be tested, he longed for Genesis to be on par with him. If the auburn fighters lips were ever stained with sweat and blood, the flavors of battle, Sephiroth knew he would become addicted. One day soon, that would happen.

“Well,” Angeal began, sitting up, and unlacing his boots, “technically it was a test. Professor Hollander taped a bunch of electrodes to my chest and back before I was sent on the mission. I was then dropped off near a dense patch of forest a few miles outside Junon.” When the dark-haired teen had his boots off, he laid back down, wariness apparent from the way his limbs were spreed. “I spent two days in the woods, hunting the Malboro. And yes, Genesis, I did run into a few random encounters while looking.”

Opting for a position switch so he could better watch Angeal's face when he spoke, Genesis put his back to Sephiroth, sitting Indian style, with one of the silver teen's pillows crunched to his chest. “Details, Geal....details,” the redhead encouraged.

“Alright Genesis, relax. The random encounters were Capparwires, and except for the few times they zapped me with electricity, they were almost harmless and easy enough to dispatch.”

“Did you use Buster?”

“Didn't need to. My fists worked just fine. A couple of well placed hits and they dissolved into the Lifestream.

It was on the second day that I finally tracked down the Malboro...”

“Did you use Buster _then_?” Genesis was becoming impatient, wanting Angeal to get to, what he deemed, 'the good parts'.

“Yes, Gen, I used Buster. I had to; the beast used it's ice attack on me. I needed to end the fight quickly...”

“You did not have a wall or M. barrier equipped?” Sephiroth asked reproachfully.

The dark-haired warrior sat up and gazed at his superior. “Wouldn't have done any good. His ice attack is a natural ability and not magic, and even if it wasn't, I find using materia a dishonorable way of defeating my enemies. I'd rather depend on my own prowess.”

Sephiroth snorted, “there is nothing honorable about being dead, SOLDIER Third Class Angeal.”

“The ribbon was enough,” Angeal retorted.

“Anyway,” Genesis cut in, not wanting his friends to argue over battle morals. “what happened?”

Readjusting his head so his shocking, Mako-infused, blue eyes bore into Genesis, Angeal continued, “I had trapped the creature between myself and a ravine. I did use my fists as the opening attacks, but its ice blast kept knocking me back, and it hurt like hell. That's when I drew Buster. I dodged a few more spells, including Bio, and thank the goddess for the ribbon. I waited for it to use its Bad Breath, and holding my breath to combat the smell, I jumped. After a few swings, mostly chopping off eye-stalks, I finally hit it at the proper angle, cutting the monster in half.” He sat up on his elbows and scrunched his nose, eyes shifting between his two friends, “It was very strange seeing two...piles, I guess you would call them, of eye-stalks, tentacles and teeth.”

Genesis smiled at his friend, “That sounded awesome, Geal.” Then he sighed wistfully, “I can't wait to go on a real mission.”

Torn between anger and pity, Sephiroth abstained from commenting on Genesis' words. Keeping in conversation with Angeal, he asked, “and your tests, how did they come back.”

Angeal shrugged, “same as always, high above the average marks in all categories.”

Sephiroth nodded, he had expected no less.

Plastering a fake smile that the silver SOLDIER could see right through, Genesis stood. “I'm happy for you Geal. You'll have your next rank in no time.” He walked to the door. “I just remembered some things I have to do. I'll see you guys later.” Without waiting for so much as a 'bye' from either of his friends, the auburn third left the room.

Forcing himself not to go after the redhead, Sephiroth continued to talk to Angeal for the next hour.

 **& %$**

Would the flow of tears just not cease?! Goddess how he hated crying; he felt small and insignificant. Genesis was angry, bitter, jealous and...it just wasn't fair. He worked just as hard as Sephiroth and Angeal, yet there were never missions given to him. He hadn't even been given 'slum patrol' and even regular army cadets got that. He was a fricken SOLDIER for Gaia's sake, he should be out being a hero, not stuck in the tower as if he were a fragile, Wutaian doll that would break easily. It didn't make sense to him, he was strong and fast and could take on any mission thrown at him. Ifrit's Hell, he probably could have taken Angeal's Malboro in record time.

One thing had become clear, as he checked his PHS every day for missions, he was being held back. Someone didn't want him to gain in rank. He had thought perhaps it was Sephiroth, but ruled out that suspicion when during their training session, he had demanded his all and became agitated when Genesis held back. Skill wise, the two were on par, and from the pitying looks Sephiroth cast (only when he thought Genesis wasn't looking) when the redhead announced he still had no missions, it was easy to tell Seph wanted him on the same level. Genesis also knew it wasn't Angeal. Though his friend would sometimes cluck like a mother chocobo, the dark-haired teen would never stop Genesis from reaching his dream. So the who and why was still a mystery.

Curling into a tight ball on the top bunk of his and Angeal's bunk-bed, the redhead let the waterworks stream down his cheeks, staining his face. He prayed his childhood friend wouldn't walk in and see him crying like a little girl. It wasn't so much Angeal's opinion that concerned him, but what if Sephiroth was with him? The silver second was the last person Genesis wanted to see him cry. Sephiroth was the initial reason he had joined SOLDIER, and if he saw him in this state, he would think of Genesis as nothing more than a child; Genesis couldn't handle that, not after what had happened right before Angeal had shown up.

The tears slowed as his thought back to that moment and his face grew warm. Sephiroth had kissed him...kinda. He broke into a smile as his heart began to stammer. Their lips had touched and moved as one, and the silver-haired teen had made him weak, powerless and breathless in a way that Genesis hadn't minded. He had been crushing on Sephiroth before they had ever met, but until today, could only express it in a flirting manor that could be passed off as teasing.

When Sephiroth had pinned Genesis beneath him, somehow fitting his hips easily and effortlessly between his legs, the red SOLDIER had gotten light-headed and forgot to breathe. He had no idea, until that moment, Sephiroth returned his feelings. No resistance had been forthcoming when Sephiroth's mouth descended upon his, and the words, meant to be menacing, shot straight to his groin. He had shivered and hardened. Neither had tried to actually kiss the other, the moment was too intense to be ruined like that, however, Genesis had no doubt that if Angeal hadn't knocked when he did, something more would have happened. He had been frustrated and relieved at the same time. As he laid there reflecting on the moment, he couldn't wait to see his silver-haired friend again. Later, after curfew, he would go to him.

The emotional ride of the day's events combined with already insane, out of whack, teenage hormones, overwhelmed the redhead, and it wasn't long after his crying spell that he found his only true solace to be in slumber.

 **& %$**

The visit with Angeal, after Genesis had left, had been pleasant, even if Sephiroth was somewhat distracted. The taste of the redhead, apples and cinnamon, lingered on his lips, and each time it was his turn to speak, the sweet taste sizzled on his tongue. He didn't necessarily want the brawny third to leave, but he would have preferred having Genesis' body under his again.

The conversation with Angeal had been enjoyable, and since it was apparent Genesis wasn't returning, it served to pass the time until he had to go to his Tactics and Strategy class. He was an aid and expected to show up on time.

From there, the rest of his day went by as usual, nothing to break the monotony. Today, that wasn't such a bad thing; his mind had been given free reign to daydream. Genesis! Every fantasy he had involved the redhead. He pictured him back on his bed, arms wrapped around his neck, and this time they were actually kissing. He imagined their positions changing and Genesis was straddling him, fingers deftly exploring his bare chest, lighting his skin aflame. By the end of the day, the auburn SOLDIER had been claimed a hundred different ways in a hundred different environments – mostly on the battlefield, after a bloody but victorious fight.

He didn't need to question why he kept picturing Genesis sweaty and bloody and glowing with pride. He knew. Sephiroth was born a warrior, trained from his earliest memories to love the battle, and he wanted Genesis at his side, sharing a victory, making love on crimson stained grass, the smell of copper and steel surrounding them.

Storm cloud had gathered high overhead when Sephiroth finally managed to make his way to Hojo's dungeon. As usual, the labs were cold, sterile and too bright for his liking. However, this evening, he had the images of Genesis to accompany him, so this visit was a little more bearable.

While waiting for the professor and ignoring the objects in the room he'd seen a million times before, Sephiroth pushed away the sexual thoughts of the redhead, and started to analyze why he had allowed Genesis to invade his mind as he did.

Lightening couldn't have stuck quicker or petrified him more. He had read about what he was feeling in the cheap, paperback romance novels that no one knew he owned. Setting on a hard examination table, waiting to be injected with Mako, insight that he fiercely wanted to deny was granted, yet it was the only logical explanation. The emotion he had never experienced before had a name: Love. He was terrified. Yet everything suddenly clicked into place. It now made sense why he wanted to spend all his free time around Genesis, felt light-headed when he was near, did everything in his power to make the redhead grace him with that crooked smile. Something unnameable soared in his chest, and he was warring with himself to either hold tight to it, or push it away as if it didn't exist.

The inner struggle wasn't seen on his features, his mask of indifference firmly in place, or if it did, Hojo didn't comment on it.

“Here,” the scientist cracked after the Mako injection, puncturing Sephiroth's arm with another needle. “Just a mild sedative, to help you sleep through the storm.”

The silver SOLDIER jumped off the table, but didn't argue. Not only did he not want to talk to the professor, but storms made him anxious, and if Hojo was willing to help him sleep, he wouldn't complain.

 **& %$**

Alone again in his room, the second class SOLDIER sat on his window seal, watching the sky, waiting for the rains to come. The cloud overhead was ominous, darker than the night sky, ruthlessly dicing through the haze caused by the Mako reactors. There was lighting, pinkish-white, and there was thunder so harsh it caused the Shin-Ra tower to rattle, but the rain refused to fall.

To the core of his being, Sephiroth knew the storm was connected to him in someway, but because of the sedative, he couldn't find it within himself to care.

“Sephiroth,” the voice was a purr in his ear.

Having no idea how someone had gotten into his room and this close to him undetected, the teen spun around, ready to fight.

However, in the next second, after he processed who he was looking at, he backpedaled. His back hit the window, shattering glass, sending glistening, deadly shards fifty-two stories to the ground.

“We have a lot of work to do,” the older, transparent version of himself smiled wickedly and touched a hand to his cheek.

Sephiroth was emerged in velvet darkness.

 **& %$**

TBC

 


	2. Dreams of the Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Characters and setting are property of Square Enix  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Paring: Sephiroth/Genesis  
> Warning: mild language, implied masturbation, and needless to say, boy on boy love
> 
> A special 'Thank You' to my wonderful beta Nephilim Rising. Also it was her story "Pride of a General" was the inspiration for child Seph in this chapter.

When gods clash, the earth trembles. Gaia shuddered a crippling breath, and the sky was split asunder! Twin clouds, one on each side of the great rift created by The Sundering, thundered high above, heavy, pregnant with the blood of the innocent. The multiheaded dragon, scales burning liquid flame, opened it maw and screamed; the sound scorched with fire and ice, and devoured all in its path. Slivers of midnight, velvet, deadly, black, rained down, gutting the fleshy sacks of the vein-lined clouds, spilling the contents, soaking the ground in blue-black ichor.

The planet whimpered and tried to heal her wounds, but the onslaught of destruction was coming to fast. Her life-force was being consumed. She assembled her champions, warriors of ages past, and sent them to protect her most precious commodity: human life. But the beast was to strong, for it had been sent forth to conquer and the champions fell, scorched. Nations crumbled in its many jaws, the hearts of heroes were punctured by midnight, and the souls of the innocent were drowned in blood.

The nightmare had returned.

 **& %$ CBV $%&**

Sephiroth opened his eyes, dispelling his fantasy. There was much to do before the dragon, who's name was War, would be unleashed on such a wide scale. And even then the beast wouldn't bring the world to ruin. Sephiroth wasn't here for total destruction; that would render him useless. He had returned to subjugate, not annihilate. The defeat of mankind, over and over again, (he would lead them to war, decimate their numbers, then help rebuild their strength, only to tear them apart again) was to be the price paid for what they, as a whole, either through willfulness or ignorance, had done to Mother and himself.

He now knew what Mother was, and the true origins of his conception. He knew he was not human, though it was a human who birthed him. Mother's cells, taking precedence over human cells, transformed him into something wholly different, almost unique; still, there were only two other beings like him in the entire universe.

The fault for what he was lay at the feet of humanity. It was them who had taken Mother apart, stole pieces of her to create him and his brothers – to create the entire SOLDIER department, then demanded bloodshed in return. It was a human woman who had injected an innocent fetus, one who would have been born normal, and possibly even loved, with the cells of an alien. It was a mortal that sanctioned and funded his upbringing and it was a human that taught him to kill and to make war.

Through it all he had tried to be human, longed for normality. There was a time when he had been herald as a hero, crowed a champion, beloved by many, feared by all, and he felt somewhat like he belonged among them. Yet, he couldn't help remaining distant from mankind, knowing he was different, being told he was special, better.

And then the one time he reacted as any human would if they found out they wasn't really an orphan, as they had been raised to believe, and their Mother had been dissected and used as an experiment, he was called insane.

He had lashed out in anger, wanting to hurt everyone in his path, to make them suffer for the lies he'd been told. They had all used him, worshiping him from afar when his hands were soiled with blood for their whims, yet turning their backs on him when he was in pain.

While in the Lifestream, Sephiroth had heard thoughts about him, knew how humanity saw him. They all thought him cold and emotionless, but they were wrong. He felt as deeply as anyone else; the way he expressed it was merely different. He loved. True, there were only three beings on all of Gaia he could ever claim having emotions for, but the feeling was still there. Genesis, the one he loved the most, had abandoned him; Angeal, the friend that tried to keep him human, hadn't been strong enough to continue searching for a cure for his disease; and Mother, the one who gave him his destiny.

The thought's he'd heard the loudest from the Lifestream was that of Cloud Strife. The blond pitied him, blamed Jenova for taking control of Sephiroth's mind. He believed Mother maddened her son, and used him to burn Nibelheim. That had never been the case. Mother's will wasn't strong enough to dominate the Shinra general. Nibelheim had happened because Sephiroth had been acting on the purely human emotion of rage. It was a crime of passion.

Fearing he had forgotten the justifications for joining with his past, less experienced self, the silver warlord smirked when the reasons were recalled. Yes, humanity would pay, but it would take years for that to come to pass. He first needed to subtly build up his power-base. In the meantime he had other things to be concerned about, like adjusting to the body he was in.

Becoming manifest, when he had been weightless for so long, was a strange sensation. He felt heavy and cumbersome. Taking step by slow, shaky step, Sephiroth moved away from the broken window, towards his bed; his motions awkward, each action forward causing him to stumble.

Stopping to regain his composure, hoping to maintain some semblance of grace, he waited until he settled into his new/old self. Looking at his surrounding to fill the time, a flood of memories emerged. He knew this room, every square inch of it. It was home, given to him by the president after his eighth birthday, after he'd made his first kill.

Shin-Ra Electric Company hadn't yet dominated the world as the one, true government, and the independent cities skirmished and fought each other for supremacy. Kalm, being an independent city, had organized an attack on Fort Condor; Shin-Ra's only other military stronghold, aside from Junon at the time.

Eight-year-old Sephiroth had been in the middle of lunch – Spaghetti O's, broccoli and apple wedges, washed down with a tall glass of milk – when Professor Hojo came into the lab and handed him a manilla folder. Reading it carefully, the young boy tasted a meatball rot in his mouth when he got to his mission objective. He looked to Hojo questioningly.

“Study the target well, Sephiroth,” Hojo's cackled, “you leave in an hour.”

Sephiroth would never forget that lunch.

The 'target' had been a deserter from Shin-Ra's growing army, and was leading a group of untrained peasants, hoping that if they could take Fort Condor, they could arm themselves well enough to move on to Midgar. It had been easy to gain access to the leader, though Sephiroth couldn't remember how he'd done it. What was clear, was the kill. The man, Kenji Morioka, a fresh faced, dark-haired guy in his early twenties, had laughed when Sephiroth drew his standard-issued short sword. He had still been laughing when Sephiroth plunged the cold, gleaming metal through his throat. Drenched with blood, the silver-haired child watched as the light in the man's eyes flickered out, and he felt powerful.

Shin-Ra's army had seized control of Kalm the very next day, and it had officially become part of the 'empire.'

Sephiroth had been given his room after returning from his mission. President Shin-Ra and Professor Hojo, who Sephiroth now knew was his father, had quarreled about it. Hojo hadn't wanted the boy to leave the labs, but the president argued that if Sephiroth was to become part of the military, then must live amongst the men. The scientist had continued to protest vehemently and didn't acquiesce until the fat, balding man had threatened to cut his funding.

The child had been led by the hand and brought to this room. He hadn't minded the size because it wasn't the labs and it was his, and he had privacy. From that day forward, Sephiroth had been part of the army, starting out as a cadet, and moving up the ranks when the SOLDIER program had been introduced.

So many memories were threatening to overtake him, that if he didn't ground himself in the here and now, he would drown. Eyes darting around the darkened, Mako-illuminated room, he caught the glitter of the mirror above his dresser. He recoiled when he came face to face with his younger visage. General Sephiroth, the silver general, Demon of Wutai – tall, handsome, tone, evenly proportioned – had been replaced. In his stead stood a not-so-tall, lanky, fifteen year old, who had yet to fill out, with mid-back-length silver hair, overly-large green eyes, and sickly, alabaster skin. He shifted his eyes from the mirror, instant self-loathing clinching his gut. He was shocked to remember a time when he did hate himself. The other men in the army would make fun of him, calling him albino, freak, alien or mutant, and despite Hojo telling him of his special destiny, all he had wanted was to be accepted.

He tried to swallow the emotion of inadequacy, but those green, listless eyes that were too big for his face, continued to glance at him through the mirror, and the feelings he'd had as a teenager refused to leave. Frustration was building. Sephiroth was the most powerful man on Gaia, a man who had lead armies to victory, a man who conquered a nation, a man who had resisted the magical calling of the Lifestream, yet here he stood, an insecure teen who wanted to smash his mirror just so he wouldn't have to look at himself.

Willing himself to move again, the silver-haired boy, crept on unsteady legs to his bed. Ungainly, he let himself flop down, face first, and tried to reconcile his two halves. His older, wiser self was the one in control of his mind; his younger, inexperienced self was in control of his emotions. ' _This is not what I had anticipated,_ ' he thought. ' _How am I supposed to dominate the world, when I can't even reign in these raging, teenage hormones that impair my judgment?'_ It required focus, discipline and and a measure of emotional balance to wield the powers he was capable of using. ' _Those powers are off limits to me until...I grow up._ ' With a vexed sigh, he punched his mattress. He suddenly felt afraid.

**& %$ CBV $%&**

The rumbling of the sky and the shaking of the tower snapped Genesis from his slumber. A cold sweat covered his body, making his white tee-shirt and black jeans cling to him like a second skin. Dreams of Mako, sickness, fire, steel, and his – mother? – had the redhead anxious and ill at ease. He tried to clear his head from the fog of sleep, but some parts of the vivid imagery from his subconscious hung just beyond his power to banish them.

In the part of the dream that he remembered, he was at home in Banora and he was sick. He had been calling out to his mother, but she wouldn't come. Outside he could hear the sounds of battle and his dream-self knew a Shin-Ra renegade had led troops here, and they were cutting down innocent civilians. He had called for his mother a second time, and she finally appeared in his doorway. She didn't look like his mother, but he knew it was her. She had blond hair, the most beautiful baby blue eyes, a glowing complexion, and she wore antiquated battle-armor. He hadn't thought anything of her unusual appearance, as dream-selves are wont to do, and pleaded with her,

“Mother, I'm sick! My hair has turned white.”

His mother glared at him before her features fell in a look of pity. She turned her face from him. Upon her disappearance, a faceless scientist came into his room and started his Mako treatments. Genesis hadn't objected that the needle being used was in the form of a multiheaded, red dragon; he only cared that the Mako was stopping his hair from becoming whiter.

At one point in the dream, the scientist had vanished and SOLDIERs had entered his home. He had been terrified. He was ready to leave his sickbed and fight them, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. It was Mother again, but she looked different. This time she had one glowing red eye and silver hair like Sephiroth's. He knew this time, she had come to heal him.

The dream ended with the sound of cannon fire and thunder blending.

Laying completely still for a moment, breathing becoming regular, ears trained on the angry storm just outside his window, the small SOLDIER tried to dispel the nauseous feeling left over from his dream. However, dread crept into his bones, every muscle of his frame tensed, adding to the wave of sickness, and warning him of danger.

Cautiously, as if waiting for something terrible to spring on him from the darkness, Genesis sat up. His Mako enhanced vision allowed for him to see perfectly in his room, but everything seemed distorted. The shape of the dresser he and Angeal shared had elongated was leaning at an odd angle, the bathroom door seemed to be bulging inward, the closet doors were too tall and they seemed to slant to the right. He looked down from the top bunk, ready to hop off; when had his bed gotten so high off the ground?

Disregarding distance, Genesis jumped to the floor, hoping that being in a fully vertical position would render his sight normal, and help the queasiness of his stomach pass. While he had been correct that standing did ease the need to vomit, it also served to make him light headed. Putting a hand against the wall to steady himself, he noticed the plaster was hot to the touch, and was softening. He jerked his hand away when the material started oozing around his wrist, but froze instantly when a heavy breathing sounded directly behind him, so close it could have grazed his skin.

Clenching his fingers into fists, the SOLDIER 3rd class prepared himself for a fight. He had known something was in the room with him even though he couldn't see it. Spinning around, arm tensed to swing, he was relieved to find the heavy breathing was coming from Angeal, who was deep asleep on the bottom bunk.

How long had he slept for? If his best friend was here and already asleep, it meant that Genesis had slumbered throughout the entire day and well into the night. It had to be way past curfew. Doing a quick check of the little alarm clock sitting on the dresser, he could make out the glowing red numbers, but for the life of him, he didn't know what time it read.

Feeling safer seeing Geal in the room, the redhead began to peel the sweat clothes from his body. First the shirt, then his pants followed, leaving him to cool down in his boxers. He wasn't sure why his vision was out of sync, or why he was feeling so bad, but he knew he had to get out of those wet cloths. It was only after he was partially nude did he realize that the wall gum was starting to harden around his wrist. It should be burning his skin, but instead, it felt ice cold.

Slowly, his gaze traveled to the wall he had leaned on earlier. The structure was shift and flowing slowly in a way that reminded him of lava, green paint swirling with white plaster, pooling on the floor.

'Magic!' was the SOLDIER's first thought, and he leaned over Angeal and tried to shake his stronger friend awake.

“Geal,” Genesis kept his voice as low as possible, while still being able to be heard, “we're under attack. Something's trying to get in.” He was on the verge of panic.

The dark-haired teen rolled away from his touch, and grumbled, “Gen, go back to sleep. It's late.”

Genesis didn't waste anymore time with his best friend. He knew Angeal could handle himself. He ran out of their room to go find help, and there was only one person he knew that could save them from the attack: Sephiroth.

The hallway that lead to the 2nd Class SOLDIERs room was full of SOLDIERs, all of higher rank than him, and the emergency lights had kicked on. But they were not the normal yellow color; they were blue, bathing the usually white, sterile corridor in a somber, melancholy that left the red-headed teen feeling surreal. The SOLDIERs were all leaning against this wall or that, talking amongst themselves, yet Genesis couldn't hear what they were saying. It never crossed his mind to tell one of the SOLDIERs that the wall in his room was melting, nor did the other men seem to notice him as he rushed down the hallway in his boxers.

He pulled up short in front of Seph's door, the feeling of dread in his stomach intensified, and he felt nauseous again. The the beast, the dragon, was beyond this door, and if he went in, it would swallow him whole.

Getting a grip on his fear, unable to stand the thought of the creature devouring the man he loved – yes, in this instance, when faced with possibly losing him, Genesis admitted to being in love with Sephiroth – the teen took his key-card, which he was thankful he remembered, and slid it through the lock. The door open and he rushed in, ready to fight the dragon.

“SEPHIROTH!” he screamed.

 **& %$ CBV $%& **

Sephiroth, having drifted off to thoughts of when he was or will be General, and still trying to get used to the weight of his body, hadn't been expecting the keypad lock on his door to suddenly explode, fried from the outside. Nor was he expecting the one person in this world he should have expected, to dart into the room, screaming his name.

He should have known that if anyone was going to be affected so soon after him tearing a dimensional rift, it would be the one he loved more than anything on this goddess-forsaken planet, the one who could use magic without materia, even in his sleep.

With his own disorientation forgotten, the silver warlord-turned-teen was off his bed the second the fiery redhead stepped into his room. Even before his arms slipped around his former lovers waist to pull him close, Sephiroth could tell the boy was in the throes of a nightmare, though Genesis' eyes were open.

Quickly looking down the hallway before his door slid shut, making sure everything out there was alright, instinctively Sephiroth pulled the mostly nude, sweat-covered, fever-ridden teen to his chest.

Dear Mother, how long it had been since the last time he held this slight, trembling frame in his arms. Too much time had escaped since he gotten to feel Genesis pressed against him, needing him, quaking against him. How could he not have thought of Genesis when he pierced time and came back? How could he not have considered what detrimental effects him being here, with Mother inside him, would cause to his young love?

But of course, he hadn't been thinking of Genesis at all. Thinking of Genesis, when in the Lifestream was painful and he found the memories of all their times together were more vivid, closer to the surface, so he had ceased thinking about him entirely. After he was defeated when trying to call down the Meteor, the auburn boy was the memory he held the closet, while his rage for Cloud Strife continued to pummel always at the fringes of his mind. As Genesis, who was in his own torpor at the time, seemed to forget about Sephiroth, Sephiroth had no choice but to push Genesis and all the memories they'd made together, no matter how agonizing it was, to the furthest recesses of his soul, and focus entirely on his anger for Cloud.

If there was anything he could honestly say he regretted, it would be that the last thing he said to his auburn angel; he had told him to rot. At the time the Silver general had meant those words, but he was angry. Angry at what he was, angry at the way Gen had told him his origins and the way he asked for the cells, and angry that the only two people who mattered to him, had abandoned him. However, his anger at his lover dissolved when it dawned on him that Genesis had been the only one who ever bothered telling him the truth, even if he had been an ass about it.

“Genesis,” the burnt-to-memory name rolled off Sephiroth's tongue with practiced ease, his fingertips gliding up and down the dreaming teen's drenched back. Even with the redhead at this young age, Sephiroth knew every contour of Gen's body, and his own shivered once. Plans of war could wait, he had years, right now, after seeing the redhead for the first time in almost a decade, all he wanted to do was touch the boy.

Lifting his love bridal style, Sephiroth carried him to the bed, and gently, so as not to wake him, laid him down. The second class crawled on the bed beside him and began to recommit Genesis physic to his memory.

He had forgotten how devastating the youth's nightmares could be, and how many times, when they were young, he had woken to find Gen had crawled in bed with him, seeking protection from the visions only he could see. Almost chuckling, Sephiroth reminded himself that they were young now, so that was something he would look forward to. He refused to disturb his lover's dreams, unperturbed by the way Genesis called out his name as if they were making love. Some might find it cruel of Sephiroth not to wake the boy, but Gen was usually so haughty, arrogant, willful and demanding, that the silver youth occasionally wanted him malleable and yielding.

Starting with Genesis' face, pushing wet, rusty silk from his eyes, Sephiroth's hands began their downward exploration. His hands ran down the graceful neck, over slim shoulders, rubbed down tone but not fully developed arms, and lightly tickled Gen's palms. There was a slight reaction, but nothing more than a mummer. His fingers glided across his lover's chest, softly tweaking the small, pink nipples, before moving on. His digits danced over the redhead's washboard stomach, one of Sephiroth's favorite features, and though longing to kiss the glistening skin, he withheld; he wanted Genesis awake for that.

He was about to rid the third class SOLDIER of his boxers, when he suddenly pulled away, flushed and embarrassed. _'Genesis will be upset if he wakes up and finds me taking advantage of him,'_ the warlord's teenage mind intervened. His adult self fired back, ' _He's my lover, I'm allowed to touch him.'_ Sephiroth felt his cheeks reddening, and averted his gaze from the body beside him, heat causing his groin to ache, ' _He's not my lover yet, but...he's beautiful and I want to keep touching him. But what if he doesn't like me like I like him? What if he rejects me?_ ' Still ungraceful and awkward, he threw his hand over his face. ' _He's not going to reject me. He likes me...hell, he loves me. We've been together for years._ ' Sephiroth groaned, he was starting to hate the fact his young mind and his adult mind weren't reconciled. ' _This time it's different. Things have changed just because I'm here. And this time he might not like me._ '

The older part of Sephiroth gave up. His teenage body and mind were producing feelings of insecurity and overwhelming bashfulness that he just couldn't fight. He wanted to be with Genesis, wanted to hold him, kiss him, touch him, and caress him, but right now, he was feeling ashamed of what he'd done, and that was overriding the desire that made his cock hard and fueled the need to possess.

“Seph?” The voice was weak, but sounded alert. “How did I get here?”

Swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, and thankful he had stopped himself when he did, the Second replied, “I am assuming you walked down the hall, then cast a fireball at my lock.” His voice, which hadn't actually been tried out yet, sounded strange and foreign to him.

“Seph,” Genesis sat up and blushed, his flesh becoming the same shade as his hair. He felt stupid. He was sitting in his hero's bed, in only his boxers, shaking like a little girl. He wanted to flee and crawl under a rock and die. He would also settle for the ground opening up and swallowing him whole. He said the only thing that came to mind, “my wall is melting.”

Sephiroth couldn't look at Genesis. His older self had retreaded, leaving him alone to turn crimson because he didn't want his friend to see how tight his pants had become. He turned flipped on his side, giving his back to the redhead.

“You were having a nightmare, Gen. I highly doubt your wall is melting. If it were, every alarm in the tower would be shrieking.”

Being in this close of proximity, Genesis experienced the heat radiating of the silver warrior's body and he wanted to be enveloped by it, not to mention he was still frightened by the dream he'd had. Forcing down his pride, hoping not come across as timid, the redhead steadied his voice and asked, “Seph, can I stay here with you tonight?”

“I don't think that's such a good idea, Genesis.” The second class SOLDIER wanted to say yes, he wanted his former lover to stay right where he was, but he knew if the teen stayed, he would loose the battle within himself . He would claim Gen whether Gen wanted it or not.

“Oh. Um...alright then...I-I should go.”

The auburn-haired third class stood, and feeling completely dejected, eyes starting to mist with tears, Genesis shuffled to the door. “Sorry about your lock,” he said before leaving.

“Goodnight, Genesis.”

Sephiroth kept himself rooted to the bed, resisting the urge to call the boy back. He would take Genesis when the time was right, and now was not that time. He had to be more in control of himself.

Waiting until he was positive Genesis wouldn't return, Sephiroth slid his hand down his pants and quickly, with thoughts of the redhead writhing beneath him, relieved himself of the ache that had built.

 **& %$ CBV %$& **

The following morning, having fit more fully into his teenage body, and trying his best to dismiss the images of a fevered Genesis in his arms, Sephiroth rigidly marched in to Director Lazard's office. The blond behind the desk, dressed immaculately in a soft-pink jacket, matching cravat and pristine white slacks, was sorting through papers littering his desktop.

“Sir!” Standing at attention, the silver warrior announced his presence.

Lazard peered over the rims of his silver-framed spectacles, his blue eyes widening at bit at seeing Sephiroth in his office so early.

“At ease, SOLDIER Second Class Sephiroth.” When the SOLDIER's stance relaxed ever so slightly, the director continued, “What can I do for you this morning?”

In no mood to play games, ready to assert his own authority, Sephiroth leaned forward menacingly, his emerald, cat-slitted eyes constricting. His thin lips formed a snarl that had the blond pushing himself deeper into his chair, as if that offered any sort of defense against the threat looming just across the desk. With a voice that was a low and deadly as the rest of him, somehow sounding older today than any time previously, the Second Class hissed, “Genesis, he is to receive his first mission within the week, and it WILL be just as important and dangerous as the ones any other SOLDIER would get. Do I make myself clear?”

Lazard broke away from the glare and shifted uneasily in his chair. He had never seen Sephiroth like this and he was mortified. He had to pull it together. He couldn't let any of the SOLDIERs see him as weak and easily cowered.

Adjusting his cravat, and positioning himself so he was back to sitting up straight, he locked eyes with the young man once again.

“Sephiroth, I will gladly give Genesis a mission as soon as his Wilderness Survival instructor, Sargent Blakemore signs off on his mission sheet. Until then, my hands are tied. You don't like the rules, either go speak with the Sargent or the President.”

The silver Second eased off. He had always admired the nerve of the director, even if he was an embezzling scumbag who had used blackmail to get his position.

“Very well, Director, I shall. Good day.”

Sephiroth exited the office in the same stiff manor he'd entered. He was going to pay this Sargent Blakemore a visit.

 **& %$ CBV $%&**

TBC

 

 

 


	4. Death and a Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Characters and setting are property of Square Enix  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Paring: Sephiroth/Genesis  
> Warnings: Boy's kissing, language

Death is not a thing for the young. Death is for the old. It is reserved for those who know and understand the world they live in. The icy, cold fingers of the grave are usually hidden from youth; boney digits pried away by the old who wish to protect those who are just starting life. They are shielded from the Harvester of Souls by their innocence and the belief in immortality. This is not a bad, it is the natural order of things. Death is usually blind to youth.

There are however, some children who aren't as fortunate as the rest. They are introduced to Death early, be it through the loss of a loved one or someone close to them. Or maybe they themselves are the ones wrapped in the cold embrace of eternal slumber. These young ones were not protected, and Death, whether purposeful or not, found them.

Among the children who have seen the skeletal visage of the Grim Reaper work his magic, there are a select few – the ones who have yet to learn what it means to be alive – who hold the hand of Death and willingly guide him to others. Wherever they will lead, he will follow, claiming whom ever they point to. These young ones, their eyes burn brighter than the sun. They have peered into the face of Death and walked away, knowledge of his mysteries forever branded onto their hearts.

Behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.

Fear has loosened its chains on those in the final group. They are blessed. They are damned. And they know no ending.

Genesis, who's birthright by name was the beginning, was destined to have no end. The beginning must have an end, but the beginning itself does not end. The beginning is always there to start over. The first is a harbinger of Death but it does not die because the beginning has no end.

These philosophies, they were deep, pointless and trivial, insane, and ultimately...useless.

Genesis rolled over on Sephiroth's bed, trying to force himself to stop connecting his name with beginnings and death. He wondered if the murder he'd just committed had driven him mad. His stomach turned, feeling sour, and he groaned.

“I think I'm gonna be sick,” he clutched his belly, curling into a tight ball.

“You have vomited twice already, Genesis. I don't believe you have anything left to expel.” Sephiroth was always the voice of rational.

Death had also infiltrated Sephiroth's mind. The murder, the killing; death was a constant companion of his. Sephiroth and Death were intimate. They were friends. Death followed in Sephiroth's wake, bowed down to his every desire, even when he wasn't the one taking a life. Lovers they were, feared by all.

Ones very fist kill altered a person, seeped into their essence, twisted the very fibers of their being. If that person is as youthful and vibrant as Genesis, a mark is left, tainting their soul. Genesis – within the span of one momentary lapse of reason – joined Sephiroth in his damnation. He was no longer Death's servant, but its master.

While Genesis was allowing his first murder to change him, as terrible, horrifying and glorious as it was, his silver savior, Death's whore, was formulating a plot that resulted in Genesis not being hanged. His mind, already fractured in half, young verses old, was splitting yet again. It had become a kaleidoscope of thoughts, a whirlwind of angles, each focusing on a different aspect of the problem, trying to reach a rapid fire solution. The godly portion of himself, the one who had torn through time, could handle such a way of thinking. However, the part of him that was still a fifteen year old boy couldn't digest so many thoughts at one time. He needed structure, order, a sequence.

The younger part, by the very need of a pattern, blocked many of the answers the older part of himself could conjure, and focused of each facet of the problem one at a time. The first and foremost dilemma was finding a way to hide the fact Genesis committed a crime. Though _he_ strongly approved of the redhead's method of dealing with the issue, bringing Death down upon one who dared to try to steal his integrity, he was positive the higher-ups wouldn't see it that way. They would never be able to see the world through his, and now Genesis', perspectives. They, the stuffy and sometimes moral lot that they were, would ask questions. They would inquire as to why Genesis didn't feel the need to report the situation to a superior, never once realizing the auburn angel's dignity was at stake here.

Then they, and 'they' should be clarified as The President, Director Lazard and other member's of Shin-Ra's bored, would ask why Genesis went with Sergeant Blakemore, if he knew what the man was after.

This second question was plaguing the War God greatly. He, better than anyone, knew the lengths Genesis would go to to reach his goals. When it came to the auburn angel getting what he wanted, anything that resembled ethics or morality was pushed the the wayside. Banora, after Gen learned he was sick, was a perfect example. Over one hundred men, women and children, including Genesis' own adoptive parents were slaughtered in cold blood. The redhead was unpredictable when it came to accomplishing his goals, and that unpredictability made his as dangerous as Sephiroth.

The question ate away at Sephiroth's intestines. If he had not shown up when he did, would Genesis had gone through with the repulsive act? Would his soon-to-be lover really have blown the Sergeant just to get his paper signed? Seph wanted to believe the answer was no, but there was that lingering shred of doubt. He also wondered if Gen had done it the first time around. The time he wasn't there to intervene.

Green eyes narrowed as he looked at the curled-up boy on his bed. He felt his jealousy start to surface. What would he have done if he walked in and found Genesis' perfectly shaped lips around the Sergeant's cock? Pain seized his heart when he pictured Genesis touching another person intimately. Sephiroth already knew the outcome would have been. His very long katana, which he found he could summon at will, would have drank deeply of Blakemore's blood as he took the man's head. But even worse was the fact that his tiny lover wouldn't have been spared. Sephiroth would _not_ have stopped with Blakemore. Genesis would have also felt the bite of Sephiroth wielding his precious steel. He wouldn't have killed Genesis, he loved him far too greatly for that, but he would have hurt him. He would have branded Genesis, scaring him, letting the boy know he was owned, claimed by a monster. Beloved of a god.

Spurred on by the visions of Genesis going down on the big, black man, moving as fast as the Mako coursing through his veins would allow, Sephiroth suddenly grabbed a hold of Genesis' wrist and jerked him off the bed. A split second later, he had the copper-haired teen pinned to the wall behind them. Glaring down at him, pupils tightening to a point they became lost in a glowing green inferno, Sephiroth hissed, “Would you have done it? If I wouldn't have showed up, would you have sucked that man's dick for the mere _change_ at getting a mission?”

A small squeak of surprise was emitted from Genesis as he hit the far wall. He was completely unprepared for Sephiroth's unexpected, violent action. He trembled slightly when Sephiroth's weight crushed against him, keeping him firmly in place. With their faces only inches apart, he had no choice but to swallow down the hot breath Sephiroth hissed at him. Already pale from the stress of the day's events, he felt the rest of the color drain from his body, leaving him a ghastly shade of white. His and his friend's skin became perfectly matched in hue and tone.

Not comprehending what was happening, the question of why slammed around in his brain. Sephiroth had promised to protect him, had said he would make everything alright, so where was this sudden, hostile behavior coming from? Genesis wanted to ask, but the words weren't forming. The question seemed not to matter when his eyes, slowly becoming glacier-blue and blazing with Mako of their own, locked with Sephiroth's. He was losing himself in that arctic rage that was unique to Sephiroth's essence. He was allowing that frozen fire to invoke his own passions.

Exhausted from the fear that had held him an emotional captive all day, the auburn angel strengthened his resolve and drew from his wellspring of courage. Holding his head high and straightening his back to compensate for the height difference, Genesis pushed his chest against Sephiroth's, refusing to be intimated by his superior.

First instinct being to answer Sephiroth's furious inquiry with a “no,” the Third Class ignored the feeling and bit his tongue. Mouth set in a grimace, copper brows furrowed, and blue eyes narrowed, Genesis held his silence. Since killing the man, he had asked himself the same question. Would he really have preformed what the Sergeant wanted him to do? He hadn't been sure at the time. He had felt trapped with no way to escape, and he had been afraid. This wasn't something he could tell Sephiroth, not now when the teens anger was rolling off him in tangible waves. This Sephiroth, a side of Seph Gen had never seen before, wasn't looking for an excuse, he only wanted an answer. And though Gen was portraying bravado, inside he was just as scared as he had been with Blakemore cornering him.

Yet, there was something more to this fear, another emotion injected into it, threatening to drown the fear. It was pervasive, causing Genesis' body to tingle. It was Sephiroth's fury fueling the redhead's inner flame. It caused him to forget consequence and answer in friend in the most sarcastic way he could; a crooked smile twisting his lips.

“So what if I would have?”

Sephiroth bared his teeth and grabbed Genesis' upper arms. In a single motion he pulled Genesis away from the wall before slamming him back against it, driving the boy deeper into the surface. He heard plaster crack but he was far from caring.

“Dammit Genesis, you...are...mine.”

He was loosing a part of himself to his temper. His younger half had retreated deep into the recesses of his mind, not wanting to be a part of anything that might happen. Sephiroth, in his euphoria of being in Genesis' presence had all but forgotten that while the auburn angel made him the happiest man alive, he also wielded the power to bring out Sephiroth's darkest, most violent tendencies imaginable. There was no 'what if's' given to Genesis; there was only Sephiroth.

Standing in shock, jaws hanging open, Gen could only stare at his friend. Though he'd never been driven into a wall before – his back kinda hurt from that – that wasn't what stunned him. He was doubting his hearing. Did Sephiroth...just claim him? Did the man he was in love with, really openly announce that he belonged to him? Over the last few months of knowing him, Genesis had come to expect many things from Sephiroth, had learned how to predict him. However, nothing on Gaia could prepare Gen for hearing those three words. ' _You are mine,'_ the phrase replayed itself in his mind. The silver Second had spat it with such anger, such conviction, that the redhead was left little choice but to believe him. He was elated and he wanted more.

Pushing himself forward, standing once again in the face of Sephiroth's wrath, no longer fearing him, Genesis did the same thing to his friend that his friend had done to him yesterday. He pressed his lips against Seph's. He was beginning to believe that when their mouth's met, it was a show of dominance, or a tool of control. The silver warrior's lips were hot with rage, opposing his usually cool demeanor. The satin skin left him with the impression of vanilla, and as he started to speak, forcing Seph's lips to move in time, his heart skipped a beat, his breath caught for a bare second, and his cheeks flushed scarlet.

“What would you have done?” Genesis challenged.

Unwilling to give into the redheaded vixen who decided to turn his proclamation into a game, Sephiroth used his words as a barrier to keep from outright kissing the teen. If he were to do so now, Genesis wouldn't understand the gravity of the situation. Already the auburn angel was skirting dangerously close to unraveling his mind, to stealing his self-control. And then Genesis would know what it meant to be loved and owned by the warlord. He would be broken and used and still Sephiroth wouldn't stop until Genesis understood that his place was to be always and forever at Sephiroth's side.

“I would have killed you,” Seph's lie floated into Gen's parted lips.

Genesis shiver against him, growing hotter with each passing moment. Here, right now, Sephiroth was coming unglued. His wall of ice was crumbling. Something hot – jealousy, Genesis realized – was melting his core, and Gen was taking full advantage of it.

Calling Seph on the falsehood, Genesis dared press his mouth harder against the soft lips touching his. “Liar.” He pronounced the word seductively, making Sephiroth's flesh conform to the word as well.

The mistake had been in the way Genesis talked, the accent he carried. The “L” in liar caused his tongue to accidentally graze the Second Class' thin upper lip. The taste of livid skin dancing on his tongue sent a volt of electricity charging down his spine, paralyzing him. He was about to pull away, knowing he had just breached the tenuous, unspoken contract the two had formed when they first met, when he felt one of Sephiroth's hands leave his arm, and twist in the hair at the nape of his neck. His head was prevented from moving, as Sephiroth's moan rumbled against his own chest, and the taller teen's wet muscle slid between his already open lips. Angeal's earlier word's rang clearly in his ears, ' _have you tried kissing him?_ '

What was left of Sephiroth's self control was forgotten when Genesis' let his tongue slip across his lips. Apples, cinnamon, and strawberries came to mind. Everything about the red, SOLDIER Third was sweet. Genesis was intoxicating, enchanting, and Sephiroth knew right then that he had lost the battle he'd been waging since he'd put his soon-to-be lover against the wall. The power the redhead had over him was as strong as it had been during his previous life. His willpower, which he usually had an abundance of, failed him. As if its own volition, his hand snaked in Genesis' hair and halted his actions.

When one thinks of Sephiroth, they imagine a pillar of strength, a tower of undominable will. That he should allow Genesis to have such control over him was unthinkable. However, that was the case. Genesis initiated the kiss, and the silver warrior was powerless against it. Without so much as a second though, dismissing all the rules he'd placed on himself when it came to his auburn angel, he let his tongue roam free.

The wet appendage barreled its way to the inside of the redhead's teeth, and he soaked up the flavor he found inside. All musky spice with an underlying hint of sugar. But it wasn't the taste Sephiroth craved, it was the feeling. He massaged his friend's tongue with his own, coaxing it into activity. When Genesis joined the dance timidly, Sephiroth knew he had lost.

Admitting his obsession, his love and desire, that was easy. However, when Genesis tossed away all his inhibitions, surrendering himself and started kissing Sephiroth in return, that's when all self-control fled. What the War God lost was his resolve. Without even knowing it, the copper-haired boy had wrapped Seph around his little finger. In their first real kiss, a kiss Sephiroth never recollected ever being so intense, Genesis made himself undeniable. In that sliver of space and time, the redhead could have asked for the world, and the warlord would have abandoned all his plans and began working to fulfill his lover's request.

Genesis' arms wrapped around Sephiroth's waist and they started breathing as one entity. Separate, each was lacking, always knowing they were incomplete. Together, they were whole; one being sharing two bodies. Both were reluctant to release the other, so their kiss deepened and continued. The pull on Genesis' hair grew stronger, their mouth's continuing to move.

Lips opening and closing, tongues twisting and spiraling, teeth colliding, and muscles tensing, neither SOLDIER required oxygen, for when one inhaled the other exhaled. It didn't matter that Sephiroth was from a different place, Genesis still knew him, nor did it matter that Sephiroth hadn't kissed Genesis in years, he had memorized the pattern.

Their bodies grew fevered, longing and passion overrode sense. Their forms melded together, each adjusting slightly to conform to the other. If asked right then, both would have claimed being content to exist in that moment forever. Genesis' hands slid down to cup Sephiroth's ass to pull him closer, while Sephiroth fingers bit into the back of his lover's scalp to hold him in check.

How long they embraced, lips and tongues becoming acquainted, was hard to say. Their kiss ran beyond physical pleasure, it was deeper than mere touch; it was spiritual.

Sephiroth regained rational first, and that was only because he had work to do. Genesis' life could be in danger, and he had yet to figure out a way to fix the situation. Their kiss trailed off on its own. Ever so slowly, loathing to leave the others arms, the boys parted.

Dropping his head so that his silver bangs hid his face, the younger part of Sephiroth crept back to the surface. He became embarrassed and he blushed. ' _We are not blushing,_ ' his older self scolded. ' _He's our lover, We can kiss him when we want to_.' The younger half argued, ' _No. He used to be YOUR lover, in a time different from this one. He's not MY lover yet, so if I want to blush after MY first kiss, than that's what I will do. Besides, while you might remember him, I would like a change to get to know him, so if you don't mind, go away._ ' Sephiroth couldn't believe he was arguing with himself after such an important event. It also came as a shock to realize he was thinking in terms of “we,” he was still one person after all, and his mind wasn't that fractured...was it? ' _Fine, you deal with this_ ,' he snapped at his younger self. ' _I'd planned on it,_ ' he answered in his usual sarcastic fashion.

“Gen, are you alright?” He asked once his heart had stopped pounding. Red was still coloring his cheeks, but he had put the redhead into the wall and he needed to be sure Genesis wasn't injured.

' _Oh dear goddess! I kissed him! He kissed me! What if I didn't do it right? What if he thinks I'm too pushy or demanding? What if I have bad breath?_ ' The auburn SOLDIER had turned the same shade as his hair, and butterflies were still fluttering in his stomach. He bit his bottom, kiss-swollen lip, and looked everywhere except at Sephiroth. He couldn't look at his friend right now, he was afraid of seeing judgment in those emerald eyes.

Brushing off Sephiroth's question, because he was just fine, he replied with a question of his own. “Did you mean it?”

The Second Class raised his head. He noticed that the redhead wasn't looking at him. Due to his social ineptitude, he misunderstood the reason Genesis didn't even grace his with a glance. He knew he had pushed things too far. He had let his jealousy and rage get the better of him and he had taken it out on his friend. He needed to explain.

“Gen, I'm sorry about what just happened. I didn't mean to. I let my emotions get out of control. It will not happen again.”

Genesis' heart plummeted. He had been under the impression that the kiss had meant something. He thought for sure that Sephiroth liked him and had kissed him to prove it. He had also mistakenly believed that the kiss was done in part to comfort him, to take away the visions of the dead Sergeant. Was he just doomed to make nothing but wrong decisions today?

“Oh....I-I see,” Genesis sounded crestfallen. He hurt all over inside. “No I don't.” He retracted his previous statement. “I don't see. I don't understand. First you tell me you're going to fix what happened, and I was fine with that because I believed you, and you made it not so scary.” He ducked passed the silver SOLDIER, so he was no longer trapped between him and the wall. “I still see his face, Seph.”

“Genesis, the death occurred less than an hour ago, I expect....” Sephiroth stopped when Genesis held his hand up indicating for him to do so.

“But then you didn't care that I was feeling sick. I killed a man, Sephiroth. I think I have a right to be sick.”

Sephiroth nodded, staring stone-faced at the ranting redhead.

“And then, for no reason at all, you dragged me off the bed, and threw me into the wall. There is a dent there, Seph. You dented your wall using _me_. If you were so angry about what I'd done, then why didn't you just take me to Lazard? Why did you tell me you would fix everything?”

The one winged angel took a deep breath. “Genesis, I have apologized for that. However, what's done is done. I can not undo it.”

Genesis, who was pacing Sephiroth's floor, flipped his hand in a flamboyant, dismissing manor. “I'm not hurt. Confused, but not hurt. What did hurt Seph,” the Third Class fell on the side of Seph's bed, knees spread, hands between, grasping on to the edge, 'is...is that you just said you were sorry for kissing me.” A new batch of tears caused the teen's eyes to shimmer. “Am I really so bad to kiss? Don't you like me?”

Sephiroth's expression, the cold, black look, didn't change. He was replaying what he'd said that could have upset Genesis so much. Yes, he said he was sorry, but that was for throwing Gen into the wall. He hadn't meant it to be about the kiss. He had enjoyed the kiss thoroughly. He'd been so enraptured with his friend's lips that he'd forgotten momentarily about the murdered Sergeant Blakemore. He was at a lose for words. He had meant what he said, but Genesis was obviously taking it the wrong way.

' _Are you enjoying getting to know our young Genesis Rhapsodos?_ ' The elder couldn't help but taunt his younger self. ' _We are supposed to be working together on this, what do I do?_ ' The younger half sounded desperate. ' _What we always do when Gen gets like this. First tell him that he's right. Then go kiss away his tears, and finally explain what you were really apologizing for. Oh, and then tell him we meant what we said about him being ours_.' ' _That will work?_ ' The younger inquired. ' _We have to handle Genesis with care. But it has worked in the past._ ' The younger self mentally nodded and took a few steps toward his friend.

“Genesis,” Sephiroth bent at his knees so he was eye level with the redhead, “You're right. I..should have explained better.” Taking the advice of his older half, he leaned forward and placed his lips softly against the auburn warriors eyelids. Salt and saline wet his mouth. It was the taste of pain; a taste he could become addicted to. “When I said I was sorry, it wasn't for kissing you. I meant that I didn't mean to hurt you. I am not sorry that we kissed. I...” the silver teen found himself blushing again, “loved kissing you.”

Genesis opened his eyes. The touch of Seph's lips against them made him tingle. But it was Sephiroth's words that brightened him. “For real? You did like kissing me?”

“For real.” The hint of a smile crept to Sephiroth's face. “And Genesis, what I said earlier, about you being mine, that part I did mean.”

Now giddy, the copper-haired teen wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Sephiroth,” there was light laughter in Genesis' voice, “do you want me to be your boyfriend?”

“Yes!”

Genesis jumped back on the bed. He could have sworn he heard two voices coming out of Sephiroth's mouth, and the sound was a bit frightening. “Okay,” he agreed, deciding that his emotional state was reason enough for him to hear things.

“Now that we have that settled,” Sephiroth rose. “Give me a few a little while to come up with a solution to our problem.”

In a much happier state, Genesis only smiled and laid back on Seph's bed. If _the_ mighty Sephiroth said he would fix it, then Gen was just going to have to trust him.

 **& %$ CBV $%&**

Looking at the situation from all angles, Sephiroth began working on a solution. It was hard when all the physical evidence pointed to him as being the killer.

The first problem was that he had visited Lazard this very morning, and Blakemore's name had come up. Sephiroth had practically told the director he was going to force the Sergeant to sign off on Gen's sheet so the boy could start receiving missions.

The second incriminating factor was that he had torn the storage-room door off its hinges, a sure indication that something had transpired there, therefore he needed to return to the crime scene. If luck was on his side, no one else had gone into Sergeant Blakemore's classroom yet. But someone would go in eventually, which meant whatever Sephiroth was planning to do, he had to act soon.

The SOLDIER Second was toying with the idea of having Blakemore being pronounced KIA, but to do that he would have to get an already dead officer to sign up for a mission – a mission he would never go on. And someone was bound to report that the Sergeant never even arrived at the transport leaving for the mission that he'd “signed on to.”

Never one who liked to react to a given situation – he'd much rather be on the offensive – the teen warlord growled. Sephiroth was one who usually knew every step he was going to take before taking it. This instance didn't leave him that option. Quelling the urge to crawl on the bed beside Genesis and just hold him, Sephiroth dropped his head into his hands. What was he going to do?

The answer hit him like a bolt of lighting. He was Shin-Ra's favored SOLDIER. He was their hero; the company's silver-haired poster boy, the reason that more and more teens were flocking to the company to join the military ranks. Though he had yet to make it to First Class, he was already beloved by the press and the public alike. The other SOLDIER's had whispered that when it came to Sephiroth, he could get away with murder. It was time to see if that was true.

“Genesis, stay here...please,” he didn't want it to sound like a command, “I'll be back in an hour, maybe a little longer. I would like it if you were here when I returned.”

The redhead sat up, eyes meeting with his...boyfriend's. It felt wonderful to refer to Seph as his boyfriend. “Where are you going?”

A smirk upturned the corners of Sephiroth's lips. “I'm going to go tell Lazard that I killed Sergeant Blakemore, of course. By holding back SOLDIERs, he was endangering the entire program. It is my responsibility to take care of my comrades.

Worry crossed Genesis delicate features. “Do you really think you wont get in trouble?”

Sephiroth threw his head back and chuckled, “No, Gen, I don't think that. I know it.”

The other teen's lips twisted in a frown, and he pushed a lock of copper hair behind his ear, “Seph, do you think any less of me because of this? Do you think I can't accept responsibility for my own actions.”

Sitting beside his lover, Seph traced a gloved hand down Genesis' finely sculpted cheek, “If I thought that Gen, I would have turned you in.”

Genesis took hold of the hand and held it, “Promise you are coming back?”

Sephiroth nodded, “Trust me.”

 **& %$ CBV $%&**

As Sephiroth stood straight-backed in Director Lazard's office, waiting for him to return with a decision, the blond director was in another room watching the storage-room surveillance tapes. Little did anyone know that there was a camera in every room in the Shin-Ra building. There was nothing that went unseen.

Lazard turned his head and raised a golden eyebrow at the young Wutaian Turk standing next to him. “Tell me, Tseng, do you have an opinion?”

Silence hung in the air for a moment before Tseng shrugged, “He's a good liar. I find it intriguing that he never once mentioned SOLDIER Rhapsodos' name. There could be something going on between them.”

The Director bobbed his head in agreement. “I will check the tapes from the camera's in both Genesis' and Sephiroth's rooms later. I do hope something is going on between them.”

It was Tseng's turn to lift his brows. “And why is that, Director?”

“Because if there is something between them, that gives us quite the advantage if either of them becomes...unruly.”

Tseng could see the wisdom behind that, even though he thought it was devious and underhanded. However, he himself was devious and underhanded, and that was one of Lazard's qualities he respected so much. “So, what do you plan on doing?”

The executive removed his glassed, cleaned them, then adjusted them back on his nose. “I'm going to tell Sephiroth I believe he was acting in the best interest of SOLDIER. However, The Board agrees his actions were a bit too extreme, so we have decided to suspend him from active duty for a month without pay. And tomorrow, Genesis will receive his first official mission.”

The dark-haired man stifled his laughter behind his hand. “Since when did you and I become The Board, Lazard?”

Lazard chuckled, “Since right now.”

“Don't you think the punishment is too lenient?”

“Not at all. I want Sephiroth lulled into a false since of security. The more Sephiroth believes he can get away with, the easier it will be for us to direct his actions.”

Tseng's head tilted and a questioning look crossed his features, “I'm not sure I follow the logic.”

“I'll explain it to you later.”

The Turk had to hand it to Lazard, even if he didn't fully understand, the blond was brilliant.

“Tseng, can you make Sergeant Blakemore disappear? Make it so he never existed?”

“That's a tall order, Lazard. I would only be willing to do that for the president.”

Lazard sighed, “Alright, how about making it so he was never here at Shin-Ra?”

“That I can do, but you will owe me.”

“I expected no less.”

 **& %$ CBY $%&**

True to his word, an hour later saw the silver teen back in his room. He could handle a month suspension. Hell, to him it was a vacation.

A real smile set on his lips when he found Genesis asleep on his bed. His little love had been though so much today. Sephiroth's heart went out to him. Yes, he wanted Genesis stronger, but he didn't want him beaten down, becoming cold and distant. He wanted Gen to retain his passion for life. Sephiroth didn't think he'd be able to handle a fireless Genesis.

Pulling off his boots, pauldrons, and sleeveless, purple-knit sweater, Sephiroth eased his way into the bed beside Gen. Gently wrapping an arm around the boy's waist, he allowed his body to conform against Gen's back.

Closing his eyes, he began one of the most important conversations of his life. ' _What can you teach me?_ ' His older self was quite for a moment, but then replied, ' _about being a SOLDIER or about being a god?_ ' The younger thought about that, _'Both._ ' Sephiroth mentally rolled his eyes, ' _Then the first thing you...I..need to realize is that there is no we, there is only I. I am not two separate beings. I am one person, yet there is a part of me, a younger part, that has yet to experience all that I experienced once before. And I also need to realize things are completely different this time around. I'm not entirely sure why that is, but it is, and I need to be prepared for each new situation._ ' And with that, Sephiroth began to put himself back together.


End file.
